Rhetorics
by blueroseulan
Summary: Her voice was soft, like a quiet bell from a distance. "Are you the one they sent to kill me?" Was this a rhetorical question? It was his duty to kill her. What was there to be uncertain of? KenXKao Oneshot.


April 21, 2012

Author`s Note: You know you`re devoted to a cannon couple when you read and write fanfics about them for years, go on a mini hiatus for a length of time, then from out of the blue the desire to create something that brings them together is so powerful you wake up in the middle of the night and start typing. This is one of those middle of the night Ken-Kao quick fix.

May or may not be a oneshot, depending on the reviews I get.

Disclaimer: A decade of writing KenKao fics, and I still don't own them.

Rhetoric

Perched on top of the remaining half of what used to be the grand village oak tree, amber irises curtained by the fall of blood red locks watched as a hooded figure emerged from the terrain.

The chains on her feet rattled noisily against the muddy soil, her footsteps limping and heavy. The cloak she wore hung heavily on her shoulders, saturated with rain and blood.

Her rattled breathing indicated a broken rib, or two. The way her sapphire irises were glossed with a dull stare could perhaps be a sign of fever, possibly pneumonia. The dark angry red stain on the sleeve of her cloak showed just were the blood from a deep gash on her chest traveling to her arm had soaked through. Her steps were shaky, as if anytime she`d collapse.

His hard glowing eyes watched as she staggered forward, knees finally buckling down a few meters from where he sat. His predictions on her predicament seemed to be on track, he thought mentally, adding a last thought on his list of her injuries: a possibility that she may not last for more than an hour.

With this last prediction, quietly he stood to his feet, his blood red bangs matted on his cheek as the rain continued to pelter from above. He easily swung his sword from his sheath, watching, in a moment of fascination how rainwater ran down the ripples of his blade.

From her fallen state, her head roused when she heard the scrape of his zori against the softened mud. With what seemed to be the last of her strength, she raised her head and her gaze met his.

" Are you the one they sent to finally kill me?"

Her voice was soft, barely a whisper and yet it rang clear in his senses, like a quiet bell from a distance. Strange, he found himself musing, how someone who had endured so much hardship, could still sound so calm.

"Yes". In response, his monosyllabic answer was curt, steeled with confident strength and sans of any emotion.

"You will kill me."

Was this a rhetorical question? Her tone presented neither any room for answers nor arguments. Was this her way of accepting the village`s verdict, her punishment, her death? For a fraction of a heartbeat, the famed man slayer whom the village elders have tasked with the responsibility of punishing men they deemed sinful, suddenly felt a wave of confusion shake his senses.

"Yes." This time, his tone sounded less sure. But what was to be uncertain of?

He advanced a few more steps until her sunken head was merely a heartbeat from his sandaled feet. The rain pelted harder as he knelt and reached forward to grasp her hair and lift her head.

The soggy cloak clung to her face and her dull black locks snaked their way to her cheeks. Her eyes had fallen shut, and suddenly, the red haired assassin felt a very deep desire to see them open.

Compelled by this unusual want, he shook her violently, albeit futilely and growled when she failed to rouse. Her breathing had become so dangerously laboured, and yet so strong was his need to see her awake that he raised his hand, and in a flash had loudly struck her cheek with his palm.

For a while it seemed useless, and had he not known how to read chi, he would have thought that he held nothing but a lifeless corpse in his hands. But her forehead crinkled, her lashes fluttered, and then suddenly, her sapphire eyes were peering into his soul.

"Remember…" A whisper,and yet it rocked his very core. Gone was the glaze in her feverish eyes. Replacing it was a bright shade of sapphire, burning brightly with something akin to desperation and passion. In that single moment he felt her chi leap up to wrap around his, protective, seeking, powerful. Her fingers came up to grasp his cheeks and before he could react, in the last of her strength, she pulled herself to him and pressed her lips against his.

"Remember…"

A passing whisper from her lips to his that served to freeze time as he felt something go loose in the recesses of his mind. In the fraction of a heartbeat he felt the whoosh of memories devour his consciousness as each fragment of the past came rushing back. From his attempted assassination, to how the elders had injected him with a spell so potent that they ultimately had the power to manipulate him and his thoughts, to the woman he held in his arms…

"Kaoru."

A small smile from her, something borne out of relief and resignation and an unnamed emotion that ran so raw and yet so deep… and then she fell limply on his arms, head slung against his chest, her body still and unmoving.

Originally a oneshot, but if the reviews are well, I`d explore different plot bunnies especially the ones revolving around the reason Kenshin had been sent out to kill Kaoru and how he`d react once he`s pieced back every lost bit of his memories.

We all know the drill: A guilty Kenshin+ A sick Kaoru= tons and tons of fluff.

So go ahead and review!


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